


Coffee Love

by Renai_chan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee plays a very important role in Tony's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little ficlet with little plot and hardly any porn (the explicit kind anyway).
> 
> Uhh... why did I post this again?
> 
> Oh yeah, because of this pic right [here](http://renai-chan.tumblr.com/image/53422505108).

It was really no secret that Tony loved coffee.

He’d fallen in love with the stuff when he was eight and first tasted the sweet and creamy, but lukewarm brew on his mother’s breakfast tray when he’d passed by the neglected cart that was parked outside his parent’s door while they slept (She and Howard had been fighting the night before that continued well into the morning, but Tony didn’t know that at that time). After that morning, he’d steal into the kitchen early in the morning just to indulge in tiny sips from her prepared cup before refilling it with the brew in the pot—that was until Jarvis had caught him five days later, and it had become off limits until he was fifteen and he’d just been shipped off to MIT where Jarvis couldn’t lecture him about the hazards of drinking coffee.

At MIT, he’d learned to take his coffee black and unsweetened after one of his upperclassmen caught him sipping on “some frou frou Starbucks latte” and teased him about it for _days_ because apparently creative concoctions were only for women and gay boys, but Real Men took their coffee black. He was already smaller and younger than everyone on campus; there was no reason to add fuel to that fire, so even if he didn’t like the sharp bitterness of it—not the way he liked Jarvis’s creamy creations—coffee was still coffee, and he hadn’t ever taken his coffee another way again (well, not in public anyway).

It helped immensely that black coffee strong enough to stand a spoon in helped him survive days at a time without sleep whenever he was on one of his inventing benders.

And then he met Rhodey who worked as a barista at his favorite Starbucks. He was a year above Tony and in Aviation Engineering, so he wasn’t an unfamiliar face. He’d notice Tony coming in several times during the day and, like most baristas, would chat him up. And then later on, he started asking Tony to help him get a promotion by trying out some of the things he could whip up. Tony made faces and criticized every one of the coffees, but he’d finish them all anyway and ask Rhodey for an Americano to go. He liked the hazelnut java best.

Several years into Tony’s tenure as Stark Industries CEO, he asked for coffee, and his newest, one-week-old secretary handed it to him with a pleasant smile and a “will that be all, Mr. Stark?” He waved her away and took a sip, and then called her back.

“You’re fired,” he told her. “And get me someone who can make me a decent cup of Joe. Strong, black, no sugar.”

“I had it made specially, Mr. Stark. I was assured that you’d be pleased with it,” she said.

“Black. Now. Out,” Tony repeated.

“Aww, I’m flattered, Stark, but I’m pretty sure I’m not your preferred cup of tea—or coffee rather,” a familiar voice called from the doorway. Tony’s head jerked up to see Rhodey lounging against the door jamb, and because he hadn’t seen him in a whole year, he squealed in delight, launched himself at the man and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“You’ll always be my favorite cup of coffee, Rhodey,” he said sincerely, and Rhodey only laughed.

When he was thirty, Tony bought himself his own coffee farm, the kind that made the _best_ coffee in the world. Three days later, he sold it when he found out the coffee beans came from cat shit (“ _Palm civets_ , Tony,” Pepper told him with a resigned sigh, and he answered, “I don’t care what you call them, Pep. I’m not drinking cat shit coffee.”).

Coffee was a luxury in Afghanistan. They served it to him gritty and cold, and it tasted of mud and dirty water. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted since his first ever cup.

When the Avengers moved in with him to the tower, he _hated_ them. He hated them so bad because they were coffee thieves, _pilferers_ who were drinking him out of coffee and home because all of them apparently needed at least one cup to even try to begin functioning as normal human beings—three after particularly brutal missions. He especially hated Clint who thought it was funny to hide the coffee tin when Tony had gone on another of his benders and was running low on fuel (Conversely, he loved Steve who found the tin for him and scolded Clint for hiding it in the first place, and when Tony decided to invest in an industrial-sized coffee maker, Steve received unlimited access and Clint got a sack of used coffee grounds).

And then Steve asked Tony out for a cup of coffee because he had never been to a Starbucks before and that was not _on_. It was so. Not. _On_. Tony dragged him (literally, by the wrist) down to the nearest Starbucks (across the street), and told him to get whatever he wanted. Tony ordered a venti Americano and a plain doughnut while Steve ordered a venti Marble Mocha Macchiato with extra whip and caramel and two slices of the chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake. Tony had stared at the giant frou frou drink with jealousy dripping in his eyes and saliva practically dripping from his lips until Steve quirked a grin at him and offered to trade. It took a while, but the utter bliss that crossed Tony’s face more than made up for the bitter coffee Steve had to drink.

It was no surprise, really, that their first kiss happened to be inside a quaint little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop just outside Manhattan that Tony had found after he was shot into it by the giant robot octopus they were fighting that day. Steve had a secret: he’d talked to Rhodey and gotten the low-down on Tony’s favorite drink. So when he set the large hazelnut java in front of the man and Tony had taken a generous sip, he’d suddenly found his mouth otherwise occupied with the genius’s coffee-flavored lips.

Tony’s love for coffee was exemplified in nearly every aspect of his life, so it was actually pretty curious that it was only later in his years that someone from that industry had decided to approach him for an endorsement deal. Tony accepted because, one, he wasn’t unfamiliar with endorsing certain products (Oakley and Tag Heuer come to mind), and two, he’d scream his love for coffee proudly from the highest rooftop if necessary.

The ads came out one week later.

Steve woke up and rubbed at his eyes blearily. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s hair where the other man was still sleeping beside him and padded out of the room into the kitchen with a sluggishness that was the effect of sleep. The sunlight streamed in brightly from the floor to ceiling windows, but unlike Tony (who he’d actually seen _hiss_ at the sun like an angry cat… or a vampire), he actually welcomed its warmth. He took a moment, while waiting for the coffee to percolate, to glance over the still-quiet city. The billboard across the window had a new image, he noted absently. Then the percolator reminded him that he had yet to drink his coffee, so he poured himself a cup and proceeded to remedy the situation.

Only when he’d finished the cup and washed it out did it hit him—suddenly and like a ton of bricks—and he ran back to the window to stare at the new billboard.

It was Tony’s new coffee ad and _oh my god_ was Steve instantly hard at the sight.

The brunet stood in profile against a window and a backdrop that was the city. A cup of coffee was clutched in one hand where both arms were crossed over his chest as he stared in sleepy contentment off camera. The image was in black and white and rather artistically done, but Tony was _shirtless_ (and his fantastically sculpted body, which Steve knew about (intimately), was on full, unabashed display) and in low-slung boxers, and _Jesus Christ_ was he _half hard_? Steve had the sudden urge to go back into the room and drag his tongue—repeatedly—over Tony’s pelvis (and every other part of his body), and he had to clutch at the window to keep from keeling over at the sight.

“Huh. Stark cleans up nicely, I guess,” Clint spoke up from beside him, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Or maybe he had been there the whole time and Steve had just not noticed.

“Nicely?!” Steve asked, scandalized because ‘nicely’ didn’t even _begin_ to cover how Tony looked.

“Well, he does look pretty damn hot, but if you tell him that, I will knock you out and tie you to that billboard,” Natasha put in, then as an afterthought, “naked.”

“Is that…?” Bruce asked, coming up beside Clint.

“Yeah…” Steve murmured breathily.

“The Man of Iron doth look particularly edible,” Thor added, earning himself incredulous stares. He shrugged. “I heard the Lady Darcy say that once.”

“What are we looking at?” Tony suddenly asked, coming up behind Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand. Steve jumped about a foot in the air before he turned to face the shorter man. It allowed Tony a glimpse of the billboard, and a sly smile curved his mouth. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Steve agreed as he looked his half-naked lover up and down before pulling him close, turning them around and nearly slamming him up against the windows.

“Aaaand that’s our cue to leave,” Clint declared, but Steve didn’t care because he was mentally comparing real-life Tony to billboard Tony.

“Speak for yourself. I’m staying to watch,” Natasha put in.

“Go _away_ , Nat,” Steve growled then, without waiting for a response, pressed his mouth to Tony’s who parted his lips easily.

He fucked Tony up against the window to the image across the street—hard and rough and just a little bit desperate. The coffee in Tony’s hand sloshed violently onto the floor that neither of them noticed. And when both of them were done, Steve shooed Tony back into the room for a shower and followed him in with a replacement cup of coffee—not the pretentious kind Tony always drank even in the presence of their teammates, but the kind he really liked.

Rhodey video called Tony up later that day while he and Steve were lounging in bed (clothed) and congratulated him for turning his coffee addiction into every one else’s wet dreams. Tony only asked if he was one of those people, and Rhodey hung up on him just after he asked if he was interested in a threesome (Rhodey called back almost immediately after to apologize to Steve for Tony being Tony, and Steve told him that it was quite alright and that he knew what he was getting into when he started dating him, and if Rhodey wanted a threesome, all he had to do was ask. Rhodey spluttered in incredulity, and Tony laughed and laughed and laughed and kissed him).


End file.
